by Olsen, Lisa
It got so that I started to expect the slightly patronizing tone when Felix introduced me not as his date, but as his boss. Until I met Reindert Faust, the Elder of Belonoc. The tall, handsome German immediately gave me his full undivided attention as soon as Felix introduced me.
“I’ve heard about your rapid ascension through the ranks. I’m most impressed,” he smiled over my hand.
“And I’ve heard about your efforts to drag the vampire community kicking and screaming into the new century. I’m impressed.” I smiled back, remembering that he had a woman as his Warden as well. Now here was a guy I could respect.
“Kicking and screaming is a very accurate depiction,” he agreed with a rueful grin. “But these are exciting times. We’ll see far more change in this upcoming century than we have in the past five, I should think.”
“Oh, I agree,” I nodded. “That’s exactly my point. It’s time to stir things up and make some changes to keep up with the times. If we’re not moving forward, we’re falling behind.”
“Just so.” His blue eyes glowed with fervor.
Felix excused himself to go talk to someone he spotted, and I waved him away, content to talk to the progressive Elder.
“You know, I’d love to meet your Warden as well. Is she here tonight?” I knew her basic description, but she could’ve been any one of a handful of blondes in the room.
“She’ll be coming along in a day or so. She’s attending to some projects of mine that require personal attention.” A short, wiry human with heavy rimmed glasses approached and whispered in his ear. Faust gave a single nod, annoyance flashing across his features before he schooled them into a more controlled disappointment. “Regrettably, I must beg your leave and take this call.”
“Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. I’d love to hear more about your projects sometime. Hopefully we’ll have more time to talk during the Gathering.”
“That would give me great pleasure,” he nodded, bowing over my hand with an economy of movement. “And now, if you’ll please excuse me.”
“Of course. See you around.” Free for the moment (well, as free as I could be with Gunnar and Rob shadowing me), I took a glass from a passing tray. They were serving blood as well as champagne, and this time I felt confident enough to take the blood without fear of fanging out. It was still warm, and I tried not to think about how that was managed behind the scenes as I drank.
So far the evening had passed without any disasters, though I desperately looked around for a piece of wood to knock, lest I jinx myself. I’d just given the heavy mantelpiece over the fireplace a discreet rap with my knuckles, when I was jostled from behind.
Rob immediately stepped forward, his brows drawn together. “Are you alright?”
“Of course I am,” I replied, turning to get a look at the person who’d crashed into me. He was olive-skinned with dark hair that curled around his ears and brown eyes, heavy with sorrow. Not, I think, from having bumped into me, but from a weightier care. Dressed in a black suit and tie, he gave off the air of mourning, though I couldn’t say why.
“I’m very sorry, I didn’t realize…”
“No, it’s totally fine. No harm done,” I insisted, waving Rob away before he glowered the man to death. “I’m Anja,” I said, offering my hand. “Gudrun. From the West.”
“Jean Pierre.” He took my hand and kissed the air over it. “I humbly apologize, I truly meant no insult.” His voice was heavily accented, French, I thought, which must make him from Toulac.
“Don’t give it another thought,” I waved the apology away. “There are way too many people in here not to bump into one another from time to time. I’m surprised none of the waiters have crashed into any guests yet,” I smiled. Something about the guy made me want to work to cheer him up. Give him a teddy bear or some chocolate, or a hug. “Is everything okay?”
His eyes narrowed suddenly as though trying to gauge my intent with the question. “I… am fine. These functions bring back many memories, not all of them are pleasant.”
“Ah, I see,” I nodded sagely, though I really had nothing to compare it to. “Well, the good news is, it might be another fifty years until the next one. And besides, maybe you’ll make some better memories at this one and you won’t have to dread it so much.”
He regarded me with a puzzled expression for a moment, but when he spoke, it was on an entirely different topic. “Was that Faust you were talking to before so animatedly?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Have a care, dear lady,” Jean Pierre warned. “The charming smile hides a ruthless ambition. It can be dangerous to cross paths with him.”
“I guess the same can be said of any of us though, right?”
He allowed a faint smile. “I suppose that’s true. Still, it’s best to play your cards close to the vest. Revealing them too soon could prove a costly mistake.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but I nodded all the same. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, thanks. All the same, if you feel like talking sometime, about anything, just let me know.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed a friend. “Sometimes it helps to talk to a complete stranger, and I promise, we can leave the politics at the door.”
“That’s very kind of you,” he murmured, moving off without another word.
“Strange guy,” I muttered as Rob joined my side. “I don’t suppose you can get your hands on a puppy or something cheery, can you? He looks like he’s about to slit his wrists.”
“I heard it said he’s recently lost his wife.”
“Aw man, a puppy’s not going to be enough. We need… like a basket of kittens or something.” God, the poor guy. If I was him, I would have sent someone else in my place.
“I think a basket of kittens might be in short supply around this place, but I’ll see what I can do if you’re serious,” he replied with the hint of a smile.
“Maybe not, come to think of it. I’d hate to see them interpreted as a basket of snacks,” I frowned, trying to chase out that mental image before it took hold. “Where did Felix run off to? I’m getting a little tired of the meet and greet. Maybe we can call it a night pretty soon?” It was still early though and I knew it was wishful thinking.
“He’s talking to Jennike Vendal over there by the piano.” Rob jotted his head in that direction.
“Oh… now her, I want to meet.” My head swiveled with interest to catch sight of the infamous Elder. She was even more stunning than I’d seen the last time over the Skype call with Tommy, and why wouldn’t she be? Tall and elegant with dark chestnut hair cascading over one shoulder, she was completely in her element with Felix on one side and Simon Corley on the other. Dripping in diamonds and black velvet, she looked more like a queen than the Elder of the East.
Deciding to be bold, I approached them, a faint smile pasted onto my face as I waited for my in to the conversation. Felix rescued me as soon as he noticed me standing there and made an effort to include me into the circle. “Oh, here she is. Let me introduce the new bosslady, this is Anja Gudrun, Elder of the West. Anja, you know Corley. And this is Jennike Vendal, Elder of the East,” he added unnecessarily.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Your Grace,” I said formally, only to be given a brittle smile with just a hint of derision.
“Oh, sweetie, we don’t stand on that kind of ceremony around here. Do we Simon? You can call me Jennike.”
I could tell that Simon wanted to disagree in the worst way – he was all about formality, but he seemed committed to support the elegant brunette. “That’s right. We are all equals here,” he smiled benevolently.
“That’s nice of you, Jennike. And of course, you should call me Anja.”
“Aren’t you a pretty little thing, let me get a look at you,” she said, her gaze raking over me with a critical eye. “I can see why you’ve got the room buzzing, sweetie. Careful though, being the flavor of the month tends to get a tad stale after a while. It takes something special to end
ure.”
I really was starting to dislike her on a personal level that had nothing to do with politics. And if she called me sweetie one more time… “Yes, I know,” I replied, trying to remember that I was supposed to be older and wiser than her. “I’ve also found it useful to know exactly who my friends are.” Her, not being one of them.
“Well, I just know we’ll be great friends,” she gushed with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, there’s someone important I have to say hi to.” The implication being that I wasn’t important enough to hold her attention. “Duty calls, you know. We’ll talk more later.”
“Oh we’ll definitely have more to talk about later,” I agreed with a saccharine smile of my own.
“Fabulous. I’ll have my people call your people and set it up then.” Jennike was already moving off, her dark eyes targeting a new victim.
“Can’t wait,” I murmured, refraining from saying anything less restrained with Corley still by my side. “Great party, by the way,” I smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to the festivities Felix was telling me about on the trip over.”
Corley’s brows rose a fraction. “You find our entertainment lacking this evening?”
“Oh no, that’s not what I meant at all. I’ve had a good time meeting people and stretching my legs after the long flight. But he made some of the events sound really interesting.”
“Perhaps you’re right about tonight though, we are lacking in any formal diversions.” His voice rose loud enough to be heard over the din of conversation. “Will the venerable Elder of the West honor us with a song?”
My mouth snapped shut almost the instant I noticed it gaping, completely taken aback by the request. Though it didn’t fill me with the kind of dread I’d become accustomed to, thanks to Jakob’s compulsion, it made me wonder why he’d asked. Was it a not so subtle dig behind the abundance of smiles?
“Of course, I’d love to,” I smiled readily, in truth a little pumped at the idea of getting to perform in front of some of the oldest and wealthiest people on the planet. For an instant I saw the cordial mask slip as a flicker of disappointment shot across his face at my ready acceptance, and I felt a petty stab of glee over the small victory. The only thing that could’ve made it better was a band to back me up, but the chances that the single pianist on duty knew the same songs I did was slim.
Only what to sing? I dug deep for a classic, intending on appealing to the crowd, settling on Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming, a sixteenth century German carol that seemed appropriate, given my age and background.
Unaware that I had no trouble singing in public any longer, Rob gave my arm a reassuring squeeze as he guided me to the area in front of the piano. “You got this,” he said gruffly, before backing off to stand beside Gunnar. That small vote of confidence changed my frame of mind from trying to woo the respect of my peers to something completely different.
When I drew in that first breath to sing, it wasn’t something ancient and traditional that came out, it was one of my favorites, Is It A Crime by Sade. Slow and plaintive, I found myself singing about something I couldn’t have. Someone I wanted to want me back.
I couldn’t look at him.
All eyes were on me, but I used a trick back from my nervous days and focused on a distant corner of the room. Pouring my heart out into the lyrics, I felt my voice rise and fill the hall with deep regret and longing. I felt him watching me, and even though I didn’t want to, even though I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate, the pull was so strong that I sang the last few bars to him and only him. Was it a crime to want him? The question hung heavy between us as the last few notes died in the air, and then Rob looked away, the spell broken.
I lost sight of him for a moment as a few admirers closed ranks around me, Macallister among them.
“Hey, that was right pretty. Ya know anythin’ by Patsy Cline?” he asked.
Rather than take a bunch of song requests, I diverted him into talking about his favorite performers. Mac liked both kinds of music, country and western. So did, it turned out by coincidence, the delegate from Salete, who seemed to have a real cowboy fetish. With the two of them happily gabbing away, I turned to make my escape, nearly running headlong into the waiting arms of a man who immediately pulled me into a tight embrace.
“If it isn’t my long lost sister,” he exclaimed. “How nice to see you, Anja, luv.”
Chapter Eleven
Sister? It wasn’t Bishop, despite the clutch I could tell I’d never seen the man before, and whoever it was had a British accent. It could only be one person, though I’d never seen a picture of him, and Bishop hadn’t been all that forthcoming on the details about him.
“Aubrey?” I ventured, pressing my arms between us to get a better look at him.
“In the flesh,” he replied with a saucy grin. And what flesh it was. Tall and well built with close cropped blonde hair, his blue eyes sparkled with good humor and charm. His lips were surprisingly full and soft in the otherwise masculine face. I could see what Carys found appealing about him right off the bat – the man was born for immortality. His upper crust accent spoke of the best education and refinement money could buy, a sharp contrast to Rob’s street smart rasp.
“Hands to yourself, mate,” Rob warned, coming up to physically separate me from the other man. Aubrey let me go without complaint, but a hardness came into his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“Is that any way to talk to family?”
“Don’t care who you are, hands off.” Rob gave him a tiny shove, which did nothing to move the powerful vampire.
Aubrey looked down at the hand on his chest with a smile, but his words were anything but friendly. “Tell your pet to back off or he’ll be drawing back a stump.”
“Try it,” Rob bristled, positively spoiling for a fight.
“Boys…” I said urgently, not wanting to cause a scene. “Rob, it’s fine. I’d like to talk to Aubrey for a few minutes. We’ll be out on the patio.”
Rob backed down, but his expression remained stony. “Stay in sight.”
“I will,” I promised. “Just wait for me with Gunnar over there. I’ll be fine.”
Aubrey offered me his arm with a triumphant flourish, all but parading me out onto the terrace. He waited until we were well away from the house, but still within Rob’s line of sight, before he spoke again.
“Well now, let me have a look at you,” he declared, spinning me around for effect. “So, you’re the famous Anja. I can see why Bishop kept you all to himself.”
He obviously knew a lot more about me than I knew of him. “And you’re the infamous Aubrey. So we haven’t met before then? I thought maybe I might’ve forgotten you from that greeting back there.”
“Oh, just putting on a show for the locals. It never hurts to claim relations with those in power, and you, my sweet, are definitely in power. Mazeltov.” He kissed my hand and then tucked it onto his arm again, walking me in a slow circle beside the low terrace wall.
“Thanks.”
“Still, it’s odd our paths have never crossed before in all this time.”
I’d been anticipating something like this, and I had my answer ready. “Do you spend much time in the West?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Well, there you go. I’ve been there for ages.”
“No matter. We can get to know each other now, can’t we?” He stopped our slow stroll, drawing me closer.
“As brother and sister?” My gaze darted back to where Rob watched us like a hawk and I took a half step away from him, adding an extra cushion of space between us.
“If you like,” Aubrey replied easily enough, but I thought there might be a tinge of disappointment there. “Do you always travel with them?” His head jerked toward the pair of bodyguards.
“Wherever I go, they go. It’s one of the perks of being Elder.”
“Even with family?”
“We just met.”
“But you already feel like
you know me, don’t you?” His grin stretched wide again. “Blood will tell.”
We did share a bloodline, just not like he thought we did. “So, what brings you to the Gathering? Do you work for Corley?”
“In a manner of speaking. Not officially, I never was one to jump when given orders. Unlike Ulrik of course, he’s been trained to follow since birth. I prefer to decide my own fate.”
“And your fate brought you here for the Gathering?”
“Actually, I heard you’d be coming to this muddle and I confess, it’s partly why I came early. Hoping to catch a glimpse of your beauty.” He hit me with his best bedroom eyes, expecting me to eat it up, I suppose. I probably would have a year ago, but somewhere along the way, I’d learned how to recognize a line when I heard it.
“Wow. So the politics had nothing to do with it? You’re only here for a glimpse of my charms, huh? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Instead of being angry that I’d called him out on it, he gave a little chuckle. “Guilty. I admit, I dabble a bit in world order. It keeps things interesting, I find.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Self deprecating, I like it,” he nodded in approval. “No need to toot one’s own horn when the cream rises to the top.”
I wasn’t sure what he was going for mixing those two metaphors, but I started to get the idea he liked to talk just for the pleasure of hearing his own voice. I was dying to hear how someone like him could dabble in such a thing without an official position, and of course there were a gazillion and two questions I had about his relationship with Bishop and Carys, but the vampire cop in question picked that moment to start talking to me again.
Okay, so not to me, entirely. It was Aubrey he addressed first as he strolled out onto the terrace. “I might’ve known I’d find you out here,” he scowled, before turning to me. “I see you’ve met Aubrey.”
The other vampire stiffened for half a second at the sight of his brother before his easy smile returned. “Shame on you for not sharing our sister with me before, Ulrik. Think of how much closer we could all be by now.”